


Five Hundred and Fifty

by glowingout



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:25:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingout/pseuds/glowingout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m695vhAvTS1qz4d4bo1_500.jpg">this poem</a>.</p><p>Harry and Louis have a long-distance relationship in an alternate universe where only 550 words can be spoken a day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Hundred and Fifty

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in March and just abandoned it but was convinced to finish so here it is!
> 
> Shout out to Nicole, Dee, Caity, and Ju for being there to listen to me whine throughout this.
> 
> Any mistakes are my own and disclaimer: I don't own the boys or claim to know their sexualities and whatever else a disclaimer is supposed to say.

During the middle of his mum telling a story about a boy who never wanted to grow up, it happened for the first time. She was describing the Lost Boys and Captain Hook when all of a sudden, everything just stopped. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out and even at four, Harry could tell something was wrong as his mum bent down to kiss his forehead and left the room with a hand across her mouth. 

The daily limit was 550 words. 

The government had decided that it’d be more intimate if people were forced to communicate by looking into each other’s eyes. To them, less spoken words meant more truth. Harry didn’t learn the full story until he was five and a half and had used up all his words for the first time telling his mum about the overactive boy named Louis he met at break.

*************************************

“Seven weeks” Louis mumbles with his face between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“Seven weeks” Harry sighs leaning his head back onto Louis’.

“Turn”

“Save your words,” Harry says as he turns around to give Louis the same useless warning he’s been giving him for 14 years. Louis was always one of those people who ran out of their words every single day no matter what. He was out of words when they first held hands resorting to just grabbing Harry’s and smiling up at him and he was out of words when they first kissed using his tongue to spell out “yes” on Harry’s lips. He was even out of words when they first fucked leaving nail marks deep in Harry’s skin that didn’t fade for days.

“Don’t” He says with a pout.

“You’re the one who’s never saved any words”

“You know what? One day I’m gonna-“ Louis starts but doesn’t finish.

“I warned you” He says grinning.

The number one thing Harry is most acquainted with in the world is actually being there when Louis runs out of his words. They have a routine they go through when it happens which usually begins with Harry taunting Louis over his loss by giggling “told you” a few times and once they get past that, Harry tilts Louis’ mouth up to his and breathes in any extra words he has and just rambles until he can’t anymore. This time he whispers words about them going away to university and the three and a half hour distance that he knows they’ll get through. He whispers about his excitement for their nightly phone calls and how he knows it’ll last and that he has no worries because he’s in love with a boy with bright blue eyes who never has any words left. When Harry’s words run out, they spend the rest of their evening with Louis staring at green and Harry staring at blue until their breath quickens and they are exchanging nonexistent words through hot gasps of tongue on tongue.

*************************************

Three days down.

“Louis” Harry says softly into the receiver of his phone. He waits for a response but nothing comes as he lays back and sighs.

“Same old Lou” He mutters. “I saved 25 for you today.”

Harry tells him of his day and imagines how Louis’ was in return and once he runs out of words, they both fall asleep on the phone listening to each other breathe.

*************************************

Sometimes after his nightly phone calls with Louis, Harry lies in bed and thinks about one of the last conversations he had with his mum before he went away. “I worry about you, H,” she said brushing the curls out of his face as he lay on her lap. Having used up his words at the park with Louis, he just looked up at her with guarded eyes which she knew meant for her to go on but to tread carefully. “You’re only 17 but you love like you’re 35.” 

Besides Louis, Anne is the only other person that Harry has always been able to fully understand no matter how many words were said. She was aware of how dependent Harry was on Louis and had witnessed the way they were together. She saw the difference in his behavior whenever Louis walked into a room and she saw how hard he loved Louis and how it could mess him up one day. 

She saw it all and the look in her eyes at that moment showed Harry that she was worried about it. 

When Harry was a kid and his mum was upset, he would always put on his widest smile and guide her fingers to poke him in the dimples as a way of telling her everything would be okay. The tiredness behind her eyes was evident and it made Harry’s heart ache but she began to smile with her fingers twisted in his dimples and said, “I trust you.”

*************************************

Two weeks down.

When Harry wakes up that morning, everything is Louis and bits and pieces of him are lurking around every corner waiting for Harry to find them. He finds him in the shower as he thinks of the way his small fingers swirled the soap around Harry’s back when they went to Paris for holiday last year. He finds him in a bowl of cereal and thinks about the day before their A-levels when they sat giggling at the kitchen table shooting bits of soggy cereal through crazy straws. The empty Starbucks cup sitting on Harry’s desk makes him giggle when he remembers how Louis would refuse to go near him after drinking coffee but would then begrudgingly fall into his lap and kiss the coffee away until there was only the taste of Harry left. While getting himself off, he remembers the way Louis’ eyes clouded over with lust as he told Harry, “go on, I want to watch,” the night they started discovering new things. He even finds him in the simple act of studying because of the glasses he would wear that spent more time sliding off his face than on and the quick kisses they’d share over open textbooks.

Harry decides not to speak to anyone that day and saves all his words for Louis. 

*************************************

Humming is their thing. 

On the night Louis’ parents told him they were divorcing, he and Harry snuck away to their hidden tree house in the woods behind Harry’s house to get away from his parent’s guilty eyes and his sisters’ questions.

His arms were wrapped tightly around Louis who kept wiping his tears away as soon as they fell but still managing to dampen Harry’s shirt. Harry remembers the way the thick quiet settled on their shoulders and nearly suffocated them, pressuring them to make some sort of noise. They were out of words so Harry thought back on what his mum used to do to him whenever he had nightmares and got an idea. While rubbing circles into Louis’ back, Harry began to hum “twinkle twinkle little star” and it eventually became this thing for them. Harry’s deep voice would harmonize with the delicate spaciness in Louis’ and it would always calm them both down.

*************************************

Five weeks down.

It’s been three years since the day Harry and his mum received the news that his dad had been in a head on collision with a drunk driver and died on impact. Three years and Harry still has to curl in on himself to try not to cry as he thinks about how lucky he was to have him at all. Every year since it happened, him and his mum visit the grave to leave fresh flowers and then Louis comes over to watch a movie with them as Harry buries himself into whatever jumper he’s wearing that day and just sobs.

This year, his mum calls while she’s at the gravesite and allows him to talk until his words run out and she hears nothing else before telling him “it’ll be alright pup,” and hanging up. He sleeps the rest of the day away and when he finally calls Louis that night, he’s met with the humming of “twinkle twinkle little star.”

*************************************

Seven weeks down.

Three days until he sees his boy.

Three.

His notebook is filled with the number written stick straight and bending and twisted and curled around the pages and he can’t help but feel the corners of his lips tug up when he thinks about the upcoming weekend. Now that it’s close, Harry can allow himself to fully miss Louis with no holding back. He can miss his chewed up nails and sharp fangs and how he looks like a blissed out porcupine after sex. Everything.

*************************************

Seven weeks and one day down.

Harry fucked up.

He fucked the fuck up.

*************************************

Seven weeks and two days down. 

No matter how long he stares at the phone, it won’t ring. He doesn’t really expect Louis to call but he thinks maybe he can will it to do something. All he’s been able to do for the past two days is look at it and pout.

The night before last, he decided to go to a party at his mate’s flat and got so pissed and high that he could barely make it back to his room let alone call Louis. Waking up with a stale taste in his mouth and a pounding headache, he remembered the text he got that afternoon from him excited about their call because he had finally managed to save his words and the realization made Harry’s stomach lurch. After explaining this on the phone and using the rest of his words to gasp out apologies and “I love you”s, he was met with a huff and a click.  
His nails are being chewed down to nothing and he keeps staring at the clock as he waits to ring Louis for a third time today. The next day is the day he’s supposed to take a train to Manchester so they can be reunited after seven weeks but now he’s not so sure there’ll be someone waiting for him when he gets there.

*************************************

Trees and landscape are all Harry’s eyes travel over as he looks out the window of the train and tries not to think. The sound of the engine going and wheels turning makes his heart speed up instead of slow down and he closes his eyes to steady his breath. Harry tried ringing him one more time before he left but only got his voicemail so his nervousness won’t allow him to settle. 

He knows he only has 15 minutes to go before he arrives so he just goes over how he thinks this reunion could go. He could step off and not see anyone which would probably make him break down right there on the platform and that’s probably the worst scenario. The best would be him getting off to see Louis’ smiling face and his open arms but Harry’s not dumb and he knows he fucked up so he doubts that’ll happen. Louis hold grudges and Harry is no exception to this which he’s found out from past experiences.

Caught up in his thoughts, Harry doesn’t realize that the train has stopped and it’s time for him to get off. Taking three huge gulps of air, he walks out with his duffle and eyes immediately searching for that familiar face. It takes no more than 10 seconds for them to seek each other out because they’re them and meet in the middle of the station. Unable to speak because of nerves, Harry just takes his boy all in as fast as he can. Not much has changed from the last time he saw him besides the scruffy beard and thin mustache framing his face and the long hair curling at his nape. The smile is missing from his fox-like face but Harry breathes out a sigh because at least he’s here.

Louis stands there with his arms crossed and eyes almost reduced to slits as he gives Harry a onceover and breathes deeply. Their eyes meet again and Harry almost swears he can see Louis’ stern façade melting as his lips slide apart and he's met with his crinkly-eyed, sharp-toothed boy again. Harry wastes no time wrapping his arms around him and burying his nose in his hair and just getting acclimated to his body which takes no time at all because everything slots together like they were never even apart.

"I missed you" Harry whispers into his hair with his eyes closed because even though they're in a train station full of people, it feels like it's just them. Always used to being met with silence when he talks to Louis, his eyes fly open when he hears a raspy voice say in return, "I missed you too idiot" and when he pulls away to look at him, there’s just a shit eating grin on his face.

“I wanted to surprise you since you didn’t get to hear me the other night because you were too busy getting pissed, fucking dick” He says punching him in the arm and Harry can’t even be mad that he was just basically chastised because he’s so so so happy that he’s hearing his voice again. Everything about it is perfect and light and playful and just so Louis that all he can do is smile dazed at him and giggle as he breathes “I love you” into his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [louweetomlinson](http://louweetomlinson.tumblr.com)


End file.
